


Insomnia

by Lire_Casander



Series: Insomnia [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-10
Updated: 2013-09-10
Packaged: 2017-12-26 05:05:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/961899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lire_Casander/pseuds/Lire_Casander
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry can't sleep; tonight he's going to have some company and a talk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Insomnia

Harry Potter could not sleep. Whenever he closed his eyes, disturbing images entered his mind and prevented him from falling asleep. Hermione had tried everything, from potions to sleep to muggle remedies against insomnia. Nothing had been successful. Harry was beginning to feel hopeless.  


 

That night was one of those horrible nights in which insomnia harassed him even before going to bed. As a consequence, he was sitting in the kitchen at Grimmauld Place, at three thirty in the morning with a cup of hot chocolate in hand, gazing off into space.  


 

He didn't want to close his eyes. The nightmares harassed him since the night he defeated Voldemort, alone in Godric's Hollow, when the murderer had used Ron as his shield, forcing Harry to aim with caution so as not to hit his best friend. Voldemort's magic was still more powerful than his own, but the love he felt for Ron had prevented him  from losing the most important battle in the whole war.  


 

Nevertheless, the memory of Ron's body being shaken by the dark wizard kept haunting him years later, even though his friend had recovered, even though time passed by and everyone tried to forget it. 

 

Harry couldn't.

 

He didn't hear noise at his back, nor a cozy, nosy little cough. He was too engrossed to pay attention to a wave of almost white blond hair behind him.  


 

"Can't you sleep?" a voice at his back asked, startling him.  


 

He turned suddenly, leaving the mug on the table, to face Draco Malfoy.  


 

They weren't friends, but they were no longer enemies. Malfoy had remained in Grimmauld Place, like all those members of the Order that didn't have a place to go. The Slytherin's case had been complicated from the beginning; the Death Eaters didn't trust him because he hadn't been able to kill Dumbledore, neither did the Order because he had tried to murder the Headmaster three times. With Snape hiding him, things hadn't been simple for Malfoy. The professor had died trying to take him to Order headquarters, and Harry had had to welcome in Malfoy in his house. When his parents disowned him for his treason, Malfoy had been all alone.  


 

After that, things got mixed up and Draco Malfoy happened to become, along with Lupin and Tonks, Harry Potter's new roommate.  


 

"It's obvious I can't, Malfoy," Harry said in a cold tone.  


 

"Could have fooled me, _Potter_ ," Malfoy turned around to leave.  


 

Harry was panic-striken when he saw Draco leaving, or at least trying to leave. His knuckles were white around the mug, and he exhaled a breath of terrified air.   


 

Malfoy stopped mid- movement and turned towards Harry.  


 

"Can you..." Harry blinked to hold the tears he didn't want to give free-hand. "Can you please stay with me for a while? "  


 

The Slytherin sat, making almost no noise, next to Harry and watched him, worried. It was weird to see that look on his face, as if worrying wasn't an emotion Draco was made to feel. Harry watched his cup again, giving it all his attention.  


 

It was the first time he had company during his long nights. He didn't know what had forced him to ask, almost beg, his former enemy to remain at his side in one of the lowest moments in his life.  


 

The worse thing about insomnia wasn't not being able to sleep, but the physical reaction. Nightmares haunted him in the darkness even though he was wide-awake, and fear constricted his throat. He didn't dare ignite any light because he would see shades that didn't exist, shades of the people he had killed with his own wand. He shook and cried until exhaustion, but not even then was he able to sleep; memories kept harassing him.  


 

"I would like to know what happens to you, Potter," Malfoy began. "You don't sleep well and that affects your work. Scrimgeour has already asked me three times why you are so pale and haggard - as if I knew!"  


 

"Tell him I don't want to tell you, and that you don't have the slightest idea. He will stop disturbing you, trust me."  


 

"The problem is, I want to know too."  


 

"Why?"  


 

"If I said I worry about you, you wouldn't believe me, would you?" Malfoy cocked an eyebrow, as if challenging Harry to contradict him. "So I will let you think I'm looking for another reason to pick on you and laugh at you."  


 

"That reasoning is going to convince me," Harry said sarcastically, shaking his head, refusing to look him in the eye.  


 

"Very well. As you wish," Malfoy stood up again, but this time Harry's hand on his right arm prevented him from moving away.  


 

"Wait," there was desperation in the hero's voice. "Wait, don't go away... I don't want to be alone tonight."  


 

Malfoy didn't sit, but he did not leave either. He remained there, standing, observing the Boy Who Lived as if he was seeing him for the first time.  


 

Harry took in air and expelled it slowly, trying in vain to relax. The first wave of nausea was arriving as a result of unsuccessfully trying to keep the memories at bay. He didn't want Malfoy to see him in those circumstances, but he needed to believe he wouldn't be alone for the night.  


 

"At night," he began, "at night I can't sleep. I don't even try it. I close my eyes and I see him, with Ron as his shield, trying to kill me. I see the Death Eaters I killed, each piece of my soul that was broken off when I used _Avada Kedavra_. I see everything we fought for, and I make myself sick."  


 

"You saved both worlds, Harry. You are a hero. You should be proud."  


 

"Proud of having killed?" Harry watched him incredulously. "How can I be proud of having killed somebody? I don't understand it."  


 

"You don't have to give it so much thought." Malfoy sat to his side. "Killing is a bad thing, one of those things that nobody should have to do. But you saved us."  


 

"And that makes me a better person, Draco?" He had called him by his name, there was no way back, he needed to talk to someone. "Voldemort is a murderer but I'm a hero. I don't see the difference; it's only killing for me."  


 

"He used his power to hurt, you only tried to do us some good."  


 

"Using the same technique. The same curse. The end doesn't justify the means, Draco. I'm not a Slytherin."  


 

Malfoy watched him strangely, but he didn't make any comment. Harry wondered what his old school enemy was thinking. During the war, Malfoy had been a double agent, working for the Order and Voldemort, until he decided not to betray Harry's side. He had killed in the name of the darkness and in the name of the light, and he didn't show any signs of repentance. Harry wondered if Malfoy also had nightmares.  


 

"You are not the only one," Malfoy said out of the blue. "I wasn't a Slytherin for starters, but the Hat made its choice. After that, each and every decision was completely my own."  


 

Draco touched his left forearm, taking hold of it around a blurred tattoo that hadn't been awake for several years. He watched his hands, powerless.  


 

"You are not your father," Harry whispered, extending his own hand and caressing Malfoy's arm.  


 

"And you are not like Voldemort."  


 

Draco put his hand on Harry's. The contact made them both shiver, but Malfoy disguised it better.  


 

When Harry watched those silver eyes he thought he could read pain and repentance, and a feeling he could not identify fighting to break through. Draco closed his eyes, and a sigh later a tear slipped down his cheek.  


 

Harry didn't know what had compelled him to dry that tear with affection, a simple caress on Draco's cheek. The blond Slytherin opened his eyes, and Harry recognized that unidentified feeling growing inside of him when Malfoy's hand settled on his again.  


 

"When I close my eyes, I see him," Draco whispered with broken voice. "I see him throwing you curse after curse, endlessly... That last day, Harry... I only see him attacking you..."  


 

"Shhh," Harry hushed him, caressing the back of his hand. "I'm fine, I'm here. As broken as you, but here. I'm not going anywhere."  


 

Draco approached the chair, and Harry felt a chill when noticing the extreme paleness of Malfoy. Both were destroyed by a war that had ended everything they knew.  


 

Even themselves.  


 

"Don't leave me alone tonight," Draco begged in a low voice. "Please, don't leave me."  


 

Harry his arms around his roommate's shoulders, and felt a big warm wave of something unrecognizable embracing his heart when Draco rested his head on Harry's chest.  


 

Perhaps if he didn't spend the night alone, if somebody were by his side to frighten away all his ghosts, then maybe he could sleep one whole night.  


 

Hugging Draco, hearing two hearts beating as one, he knew he would not see Voldemort in his dreams again. 

 

Ever again.


End file.
